It was not far, but the smell was toxic. Glais brought his sleeve up to cover his mouth, walking the long way around the path in an effort to get behind the wind so the smoke would stop attacking his lungs. His pace slowed as he came upon the scene. Glais had been expecting a many number of things, perhaps a prominent warning to Barret of some kind but there was nothing but a fire that seemed to now be under control.
When Glais arrived the soldiers of Braykith were there already working with the keepers of Crimah to put out the flames. There was no house nearby, or any building actually. Glais turned slowly on the spot and saw that they stood in a field that seemed to have no purpose beyond being a meadow. It seemed extremely doubtful that this was a planned attack by the rebels.
“Did anyone see anything?” Glais asked, not directing his question to anyone in particular.
Greg was the one who spoke up. “No one saw anything my grace until after the fire was spotted by the night guard.”
Glais nodded. Now that fire was dead, he could inspect the site closer. The grass was black and destroyed, but it never had the opportunity to burn out of control or lay further damage. Great care had been taken in the simple but effective construction with only enough wood to food the flames for a set amount of time. The grass around the immediate area had been cleared away, although Glais supposed if the wind had caught it in a single direction the flames could have leaped the small gap. All that told Glais was that the people responsible had done this deliberately, and were local. They knew the temperaments of the weather. “Do people use this field for anything?”
“No, My Grace.” Greg was nervous about speaking to Glais, and although he did have some favour with Barret, it was different to be speaking with a Prince. “Occasionally the livestock is brought out here, however, usually this meadow is clear. Lady Evangeline was prone to playing in it when she was a child.” Greg forced himself to shut up before he embarrassed himself further. He needed to remember to keep to the facts, but it was hard to stand under Glais’ steel eyes and not lose a piece of his mind.
Glais looked back to the manor. Evangeline’s window could be seen, and while it was not the only window which looked out into the meadow it did have the best view, and the fire had been placed in such a way that she would have seen it if the smoke did not wake her. Frowning, Glais forced himself to look closer at the site.
“Whoever had set this was not hoping to stay warm for long.” Glais backed away from the ash. It was a large fire, the earth was a black spot that would have been seen for miles, but it was a safe fire and one that might just burn long enough as a distraction. That realisation hit him like a physical blow, and for a moment the air was knocked out of his lungs before he could take the following breath.
“Back to the Manor.” Glais bellowed, the men from Crimah frozen on the spot from his voice while those of his own home were off before he could tell them again. Glais grabbed Greg by the shoulder, shaking him from the daze. “This fire was deliberately set as a distraction. Someone wanted the castle to be empty. Find your Lord.” That was enough for the men of Crimah to get moving.
Glais stayed in the clearing for a moment longer, looking up to Evangeline’s window. This fire was deliberately lit, of that he was certain, but Glais was not so sure on its purpose. A mere distraction that would clear the manor of individuals who could put up a fight was the leading theory, which was exactly what it had achieved. The Manor had stood bare and defenceless for several long minutes. It was more than enough time for an attack upon a grieving city.
But the positioning brought Glais to wonder if perhaps the signal had been lit for a different purpose. Perhaps it was a message for Evangeline alone, a sign she could decipher but would be useless to all else who laid eyes upon it. There were no words or symbols in the blackened earth, but Glais knew that communication did not lay in words alone. Had she a lover in Crimah? She spoke so little of her home before, and now Teagan and Viviana no longer with her, it seemed she never mentioned it. Glais assumed it was an attempt to leave it behind, but could Evangeline be hiding a secret life from him? It would not be the first time it had happened, but Glais was embarrassed to even think Evangeline could be so devious.
Forcing any thoughts of her possible infidelity from his mind, Glais headed back towards the manor. He was hoping to be wrong. Perhaps the fire had been set by some bored children, playing with tools they had no right in playing with however the scene he walked in on was not one that comforted him.
James was rushing towards him, and Glais quickened his speed to meet the man half way.
“Sir, the sleeping chambers of Earl Barret, his Lady Thea, and Lady Evangeline are vacant,” James reported.
“Vacant?” Glais demanded, but James had nothing more to add. “Did anyone see anything?” He asked, but the answer was obvious before James could shake his head. “Of course not,” Glais answered his own question. “Because we were all out here dealing with that fire.” Glais cursed, panicked for a breath before he found his thoughts. “There is no horse faster than a Braykith stallion. Get me my horse.” Glais demanded.
James ran to the stables with Glais staying where he was by the manor in hopes of seeing life. How far could they get without notice? Glais firmly believed, Indris, his horse, could catch them, and when James brought his honey coloured stallion to his side, Glais was upon him before he came to a complete stop.
“Send our men in all directions to find these bastards. Keep the Crimah guards here. They know their home better we can. They will know its defences. I will find their Earl and my wife.” He promised before running his horse out to the direction directly opposite the fire.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
With Evangeline gone, Sable felt that she could do more with her time. That did not mean she was free to act as she felt without conscious. She needed to remain mindful at all times that those who lived closest to her would notice, and gossip, about her changes. It would be foolish if Sable ever forgot that at all times her actions were being judged and carefully deciphered. With no fear of Evangeline happening by to see her, Sable had lost some of her paranoia and could relax.
She was enjoying the freedom for the most part, but she never forgot her mission. With Evangeline gone, and with her the only reliable source Sable had, it meant that her reports to Christof were fewer and further between. There was nothing to be done about that. She could not be his eyes within the castle until Evangeline felt there was no other option except for Sable to be invited to live there with her. Sable knew the girl was desperate for a friend but Sable needed to ensure that Evangeline never suspected her of being more than the person she was pretending to be. It was a tricky balancing act that Christof could never hope to understand, and his patience would not last forever.
Sable looked up to the sky, shielding her eyes from the sun and looking for the returning raven from her leader. She had been waiting for close to a day and was growing more anxious, needing to know that the information she was giving him was for real use. Sable knew that the notes she was sending back to the rebellion leader were limited, but it was something. Christof would have been pleased to know that Evangeline was heading towards Crimah. She wasn’t sure what Christof would do with the information, but he would be glad to have it.
Standing out in the field, Sable suddenly heard a commotion from the markets nearby. She had put herself here on purpose just for the view of the markets below. It also helped that the position made it easier for the raven to find her. Spying on the locals of Braykith as they continued their busy lives was usually something Sable enjoyed, but she did not like what she saw. Wick stood out to Sable in the crowd. Everyone knew of Wick, and even with Sable being the outcast she was, people felt the need to gossip about Evangeline’s lady in waiting with everyone in earshot, herself included.
The stories all changed depending on who Sable spoke to. Some claimed Wick was once a local girl that Quintus had tried to use as a vessel for a demon, but the summon had not worked.
Others say she was a deformed Princess, publicly denied but kept close to the throne because Quintus needed children of his own within reach to take their energy when his was draining. The subject matter may have changed with the storyteller’s imagination, but all of the stories lead to Quintus and his demon worship.
The worst rumour on Wick’s true identity was that she was really born as Kyleigh’s first child. However, the baby was not Quintus’ blood. Rumour persisted that Quintus had beat the baby when it was born and tossed it to the gallows to rot. How the baby survived no one is certain, and so it made Sable deny it instantly as any hint of truth. Although all of the stories were probably lies, it said much about what people thought of their king when they believed it as truth. In the eyes of his own citizens, Quintus was a monster, and while not as bad as the men who came before him, the evil streak of the Braykith Royals was deep in his veins.
How Wick came to be would always be a matter of debate. The only thing that was clear to Sable was that Wick was the only person who served Evangeline and spent a lot of time with her. Her disfigured body and the dragging style of her walk did not mean she was hidden in the castle or cast aside. Instead of being a disgrace, Wick had been given one of the most important jobs any servant girl could hope for. It made her origins more mysterious in Sable’s opinion. She watched Wick watching her, not aware if Wick had any idea who she was or if she simply happened to look at the right moment to meet her gaze.
A raven circled overhead and finally came to land by Sable, the animal stealing her attention away from Wick’s small figure in the distance. By the time she had released the note from its foot and looked up, Wick was gone. Sable looked around, but there seemed to be no sign of the strange girl from the castle. Flinching back from the raven as it pecked her hand, Sable reached into her pocket and threw it some scraps. “Wretched thing,” Sable grumbled, uncurling the note as the bird took flight once more.
Christof’s message was short, and to the point, much like he was in real life. They never could write essays to each other, and there was a danger that too many birds being seen arriving at a single location may give away the only secure hold the rebels had. However, she wished he would trust her with more details on what the rebels were doing while she was here in Braykith.
All the note said was get close to that girl. “As if I have been doing anything else,” Sable muttered to herself with a hefty sigh. Sable ripped the paper up into the smallest pieces she could and stuffed them in her pocket. She would burn them later. As Sable rose off the mound and wiped at the back of her skirts, an idea came to her, and she could only thank Wick for her inspiration. Sable was a little embarrassed to admit that the idea had never come to her before now, but as it bloomed in her mind, with each step it grew more prominent.
Being given the role as a lady in waiting was the logical step in getting closer to Evangeline, and the perfect excuse for Sable to live within the castle walls. The hardest part would be to plant the idea in Evangeline’s head so subtly that Evangeline would believe that she had thought of it herself. Sable frowned as she walked down the hill and back towards her dwelling, which was really not much more than a room and a small sitting area. Sable started building the fireplace, her movements automatic as she stuffed the torn up parchment between the thin sticks and other kindling.
Starting the fire, Sable considered her options. Evangeline would never simply invite her to serve at the castle. She knew about Evangeline to guess at some of her mannerisms and customs. As far as Evangeline understood of her situation, Sable was a young girl who ran away from an arranged marriage. Evangeline thought it was a terrible situation, but not enough to bring Sable into the castle. Sable couldn’t trust Evangeline to just open up her home without a cause. But if Sable could convince Evangeline that she was being offended in some way by only having a single servant, and Sable could insert herself into the pool of possibilities, then it did not seem like such a far-fetched plan.
Or perhaps she could convince Evangeline that the whispers and mutterings of her neighbours were becoming much more than just words. Sable wondered if Evangeline would believe an act of violence perhaps. Looking out the window, Sable looked at the castle in the far distance. She knew that she needed to get within those walls if she was ever going to be useful enough for the rebellion to stand a chance.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Glais had at first felt confident that the intruders would have fled in the direction opposite to the set flames. With the manor between them, the view of their escape would have been hidden. But the trees seemed to grow thicker here, and Glais was quickly forced to abandon his horse Indris in a clearing and make the rest of the search on foot. His horse had no chance of making it through the trees. However, no normal horse would have either.
With every step, he became less sure of this being the right direction. It became apparent to him very quickly that there were no signs of a struggle. If people had come this way with Barret and Evangeline, Glais imagined the paths to be ruined with evidence of their direction. He knew that Earl Barret would not have come calmly, and Glais liked to believe Evangeline would have fought against their captors as well. Deeper he walked into the unknown land feeling that there was nothing here, and yet he continued on. Glais could be stubborn, or it could be fate. Glais refused to dwell on it.
Just as he was sure that he had picked the wrong direction, Glais heard the low grumble of a voice just ahead. Hand on his sword hilt, Glais slowed and followed the sound. Slowly words came to him, the gruff sound turning into the voice of the earl. Glais couldn’t help but feel optimistic. This could mean that Evangeline was not dead, and Glais was not too late to rescue her.
“Say it.” Barret’s voice filtered through to him, and Glais froze with his hand clutching his sword hilt, ready for violence. His ears strained as he tried to hear more of the conversation. He had been expecting to hear Barret scared, bargaining with some imagined intruder and if he kept listening in perhaps, he would have a better idea of how many people he had waiting for him.
“I will not ask again, Evangeline, and I will not be gentle.” Glais took off towards the noise, needing to see this with his own eyes because what he heard did not fit the mental image he had been expecting to find. Coming upon the clearing, he was shocked by the sight he was witness to. Glais watched as Barret reached for Evangeline’s jaw and he forced her to look up. After a tense moment, Barret tore the gag from his daughter’s mouth.
Barret had positioned himself behind Evangeline. The sudden panic had limited Glais’ eyes to only Evangeline and her father. Slowly the focus widened, and Glais’ eyes picked up the details, but none of it but him at ease. A small knife blade glinted in Barret’s hand. Glais’ jaw clenched as he noticed blood across Barret’s clothes that did not look clean. It took a moment before he could clear his head, but Glais managed to focus on the smell of the blood. Slowly it came to him through the fresh scent of the woods and the chaos of the unexpected scene. The blood was old and tainted with something Glais had never encountered before.
He frowned, struggling to place it when suddenly the source dawned on him with an unexpected wallop to the senses. It made Glais feel weak at the knees, but the tree at his side kept him standing. It was the blood of the Earl’s wife, the poison that laid in Thea’s veins was now soaked into Barret’s clothes. Although he was relieved that the blood did not belong to Evangeline, Glais still felt weakened by just the smell that now seemed to assault him.
Thea was motionless on the forest floor, and it did not take the bizarre curse he carried to tell Glais there was no heartbeat to be found. She wore clothes that no longer fit her body. Glais could see that Thea had fought the poison hard, and her body showed signs of that struggle. Finally, there was no fight to be had and judging by her weakened muscles being destroyed beyond recognition, Glais supposed that Thea had died sometime in the night. No one had cleaned her body of expelled fluids, and Glais mourned the idea that Evangeline had to remember Thea
in this state. There were signs of blood near her mouth and red had been wept from her eyes, twin lines falling from her closed lids and into her hairline.
Glais did not know Thea in life, but the few times he had met her, he had always been inspired by her hair. The usual browned red blaze of her hair had whittled to nothing. There was no light left in her form, but Glais could not close his eyes in a moment of grief and remembrance because what he feared had his full attention. Evangeline was on her knees, and her face held a hint of colour that Glais suspected was a bruise in the making. She did not cry now, but her face was wet. Dirt clung to the water trails where she had wept earlier, and Glais struggled with the vision before him. Hands bound behind her and Evangeline had her head bowed, and none of this made any sense to the Braykith Prince.
Evangeline considered her father’s mad eyes. “I do not know how to call Dryads.” She pleaded with him. “I have only ever done it once, and I cannot be certain it will work again.”
“Say it.” Barret sneered, pressing his purpose into every syllable.
Evangeline nodded and recited from memory the same poem that she had spoken alone in the Braykith forest.
daughters of Gaia Mother Earth,
take this offering
oh nymph of the trees,
move into the trees, please
so mote it be.
Had Glais not seen a dryad before, then he might have been stunned to see the green creature emerge from the tree. It is hard to see where she came from. One moment there was nothing but before Evangeline’s head could fall forward in defeat, the youthful face and upper torso stepped out of the bark. Barret was shocked into silence, but Evangeline gave the tree spirit no attention. She had no idea what her father planned to do, but she did not think it would end well. Her muddled heritage has always been a soft spot.
Delusions of Loyalty (The Braykith Series Book 2) Page 9